I went to Stonehenge last week, accompanied by Boef alias the black version of Bridget Jones, … sorry there, the BROWN version of Bridget Jones, before I get in trouble again. I had really expected a lot of it (Stonehenge, not Bridget Jones), otherwise I wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble getting there. Trouble being:
FAR AWAY LAH!
LAST NIGHT TOO MUCH BEER LAH!
DID I MENTION COLD?
FUCKING ARSE FREEZING OFF!
So that may give you a bit of an idea about how our journey went. In a nutshell: the temperature was low. However, we figured that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Given the probability that we must be the only two idiots who decide to spend their Saturday morning travelling to a bunch of stones in the middle of fucking nowhere at minus 10, we would be all alone there, leaving the serenity and mysticality of the place to just the two of us, thereby creating a spiritual epiphany never experienced on the British isles before.
And so we went … to get stuck up in an endless stream of Japanese, German, Korean, French, Chinese and British tourists waddling their way around the monument. The nearest you can get to the thing is about 200 m, which is perfectly sensible given its share of hooliganism that Stonehenge has received during the years, but it doesn’t really make for an awe-inspiring experience. The day was beautiful, the sky was blue and the shadows long, I was in good companion, we had fun but the place just didn’t work for me. Seen from afar, with all these other people knocking you over to get the best pictures, it was just what I was afraid it would be: a bunch of stones.
I’m glad to say however that Bridget had her epiphany. Look how enlightened she is, I didn’t even know that brown people could get enlightened anyway. Yes yes, I learn everyday. Anyway, to conclude a happy day she thought it fitting to buy some self-help CD’s, most notably one of Pink. Somehow I can’t connect the dots between the antics of Pink and the mystics of Stonehenge, but that’s okay. As long as Boef can. I guess they both helped to epiphane her up in their own right. How awefully eclectic.